


Silent No More

by BobTardis



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Angst, Family Secrets, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:30:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1206163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobTardis/pseuds/BobTardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spalding reveals a secret to Cordelia that will change the future of the coven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent No More

 

Since she had stabbed her own eyes out a few days earlier, Delia felt her way around for various plants and extracts, confirming their identities by scent. Myrtle had been trying to help her learn Braille, since Delia refused to allow her to repeat the procedure that gave her one brown eye and one blue. But it was too early in the process for her to interpret the bumps on the labels so carefully punched out by her guardian, so she relied on her senses of sight and smell.

She plucked a leaf of deadly nightshade and breathed it in deep, wondering if she should just take this potion herself. Get out of this disaster of a coven. For the potion she mixed would instantly and painlessly kill anyone who ingested it.

Delia was so absorbed in her work that she jumped when she heard a male voice behind her call her by her full name. She didn't recognize the voice. She groped around for her cane as she asked, “Who's there?” He didn't respond, so she made her way toward him, the leaf of nightshade still clutched in her hand. Her cane bumped into his shoe and she stopped.

“Who are you?” she repeated, her voice quivering slightly. Though she had the power of sight and remarkable ability with potions, Delia didn't think either of these things would help her fend off this man if he decided to attack her. She felt alone and helpless.

He reached out and took her hand gently. As he pulled the nightshade from her grasp, she saw a quick flash of Spalding being murdered. Chained to the bed in his kimono while Zoe stabbed him in the chest.

Delia stumbled backwards, her cane clattering to the floor, her heart racing. “Oh, Spalding...” Her hand found its way to her chest and she tried to slow her breathing. She heard the cane scrape against the floor as Spalding picked it up and held it out to her. It bumped against her hip and she grabbed it. “You were murdered... that little bitch Zoe...”

“And nobody cared.” His voice was disparaging, but his eyes were filling with tears. It was strangely easy for him to control his tone of voice, to mask his true emotion from Delia, considering he had been without the ability to speak since before she was born.

“Spalding-”

“None of you ever asked, 'Where's Spalding?' Didn't notice Zoe and that Franken-asshole drag my body out of the house and feed it to the gators. Didn't care.” His voice grew louder as he became more passionate. Delia's face began to contort into a grimace. He was frightening her. “Who made you supper? Who turned down your beds every night? Who brought you tea? You never needed me! But look what happened to this coven once I was gone. What a disgrace. The witch hunter. That Axeman clown. And now our Supreme is dead, and you have no replacement.”

Delia's jaw quivered. “They will all attempt the Seven Wonders on Sunday...”

“And they will all die! None of those little wannabes have what it takes to be the Supreme. None of them are as strong as Fiona was. None of them are as much of a bitch. Well, that Madison Montgomery comes close.”

She didn't smile. “It's all my fault.” She hesitated. She swallowed, trying to stop her mouth from being so dry. “I didn't do a good enough job training them. I taught them to hide their powers and fit in with the world. Fiona was right, I should have taught them to be proud! If we would have started them training earlier, one of them would have come forth and Fiona could have identified her.”

“And Fiona would have killed her.” Spalding's voice grew softer now as he stepped toward Delia. “You know that. Fiona Goode was a great witch, but she was no nurturing caregiver. She was very selfish.” His voice caught on a memory Cordelia didn't know. “She only cared about herself.”

“I cared about everybody except myself, and look where it got us!” Tears began to stream down her face, stinging the still open wounds that used to be her eyes; she had still not been to the hospital. She sank to the floor. “I married a liar who tried to destroy this coven! I have been a disgrace! You should just kill me!” She began to sob. The cool concrete floor was comforting to her and she caressed it, not minding the dirt transferring to her fingers. It calmed her down, helped the tears to cease.

Spalding was very close now; she sensed his body taking up space beside her. He sighed, and she wondered what he was thinking. A very long moment passed before he spoke, his voice very quiet and on her level. He was sitting near her. “I would never hurt you, Cordelia. As long as you are in this house I will protect you. I love you as though you were my daughter.”

She reached out to touch his face but he intercepted her hand. He held it for a moment until she withdrew. Delia did not see anything; she thought perhaps her power only worked consistently on the living. But she did not realize the Watchers had their own magical powers. “Your hand is surprisingly warm, for a ghost.” They both smiled, and she was glad she couldn't see his horrible teeth. Her smile faltered, and the tears began again. Silent sobs wracked her shoulders.

Spalding hesitated for a moment, then did something he had never dared to do with any witch since Fiona. He pulled himself right beside her and put an arm around her. She leaned into him, accepting his comforting embrace. He tried to keep his defenses up strongly, so she would not see the memories that were running through his head. Younger versions of himself and Fiona in various states of undress in her bedroom. A pregnant Fiona, yelling at Spalding that they could never be together, that he could never be more than a butler to her baby. Several months later, Fiona placing the baby into her crib, Spalding watching from the other side of the room, holding back tears. Spalding in his room, cradling a doll, imagining it to be his baby.

His daughter, Cordelia.

Delia stiffened, and Spalding knew he had been unable to keep her out of his head. She pulled away from him slightly, and though she no longer had eyes, she faced him as if she were staring at him, her mouth open slightly. Unsure what to do, he waited and watched, like he had his whole life. When she spoke, he couldn't discern her emotion. Her face was completely blank with shock. “You... are... my... You're my... my.... my...” She practically launched herself into his arms. He hesitated in surprise; his arms momentarily hovering before embracing her. She held him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder. She felt his hair brush against hers, then he rested his cheek on top of her head and sighed.

“Your mother was the Supreme witch and your father was a Watcher. The Watchers carry their own magic the witches have long forgotten.”

She saw it flash through his mind. “The sight,” she said, her voice muffled by his jacket.

He nodded, his cheek disturbing her hair. “And many other powers that help us to watch and protect the coven. To know all the secrets.” He waited, but she didn't reply, so he continued. “ _You_ are the next Supreme. You have powers those witch bitches can't even imagine. So go out there and prove it. Perform the Seven Wonders. Take your place as the Supreme.”

“I can't.”

“You led this coven for years while Fiona indulged her whimsy elsewhere. You are stronger than you believe. You are a hero.”

“I can't perform the Seven Wonders...”

He exhaled sharply, and his next utterance was more forceful. “Your weakness, Cordelia, is other people. You care too much about what other people think, what they say, if they are happy. You bend to everyone else's will. You know the truth now, you know where you come from. Have some confidence. It's your time.”

She began to respond, but he had vanished. She was sitting on the floor by herself, embracing empty air. Her mouth closed and her hand grasped for her cane. She knew what she must do.


End file.
